Big City White Boys
by scorpiaux
Summary: What if he wasn't the first guy she met? What if she wasn't fourteen, but twenty? And what if she was already taken? He's the new kid on the block and his biggest fear isn't facing the Fire Lord. College AU, Kataang, Zutara, Tokka, Multi-Chaptered.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: For the sake of the story, there are some changes that I've made to the characters. Toph, Katara, and Suki are all twenty years old. Zuko and Aang are both a year older. Sokka is twenty-two. The girls are entering their junior year while the boys, their senior year. Let me know if anything is confusing, because sometimes it is hard to decipher AU fictions.

scorpiaux

* * *

The girl in his Energy Anatomy class. Big eyes and a smile as even as piano keys.

It was the first thing he thought when he walked in the door and it stuck for the rest of the lecture, replayed over and over until he couldn't take it anymore – he became hard, and as he pulled up the desktop from the side of the chair to cover his pants, he hated that his body had deceived him. Was it his fault that the memory grew more and more perverse with each revision? Maybe this was the culture shock Gyatso was talking about.

He felt someone elbow his side, and turned to find Sokka grinning big at him. "How you holdin' up, buddy?" he whispered. "Bored out of your mind yet?"

"Doing okay so far."

"You sure? Because I'm thinking of ducking out." The older boy shot a glance at the door, strategically placed at the back of the room. While Sokka's head was turned, Aang started scanning for the girl again. His search was fruitless, and he sighed.

Aang said, "We only have a few minutes left anyway."

"Why don't you take notes?" Sokka asked. "If you want to stay. Might as well learn something."

"I don't have any supplies yet."

"I can hook you up later." Sokka slumped in his chair, the monotone of the lecturer drowning out his own sighs and mumbles. He rolled his eyes. "I don't know why I can't ever focus," he confessed to Aang. "I might have something."

"ADHD?"

"I don't know."

"You should see a doctor."

"Gentlemen! It's strange – usually the girls are the ones chattering in the back." The boys snapped their necks forward to find the lecturer directing his speech at them. Aang felt the back of his neck burn up. The man crossed his arms as the entire hall turned to look at the offending duo. There was a faint brush of giggling and hoots. Sokka smiled appreciatively.

"Your second year in this class, Sokka, and you still indulge in banter during the most important lectures of the semester?"

"Conversation helps stimulate the brain, Professor Lei!" Sokka called back.

The man turned to the diagrams on the blackboard and began to erase them with a jittery hand. "One cannot stimulate what one never had, my boy," he answered drily.

Their professor continued to chastise them, but Aang couldn't hold his attention – one of the students staring at him and Sokka was the girl he had run into before class. She looked uneasy, her eyes resting on Sokka. She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and shook her head. Aang saw Sokka shrug from the corner of his eye. It became clear that they knew one another, and that she was embarrassed for him. The thought of having Sokka introduce him to the girl crossed Aang's mind, but he already had an idea of Sokka's reputation. Somehow Aang felt that the scenario wouldn't play out well. Moments passed, and when the lecturer dismissed them, Aang stayed glued to his seat.

"Hey, let's go!" Sokka called out. He pulled his backpack around his shoulders. "I'm starving. We have an entire half hour before we have to be at the gym. We can grab sea prunes or something."

Aang stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He craned his neck to where the girl was sitting just a minute before, but she had disappeared. "I'm not really hungry," he said nervously. "And sea prunes before the gym sounds like a bad idea."

"Not hungry! Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Aang replied. "Feeling a little sick. I don't know. Isn't there a flu going around?"

Sokka had pulled Aang up by the hood of his sweatshirt and now they both walked out, the older boy pushing the glass doors that led to the main courtyard on campus. "There's always something going around," Sokka said. "This place is a mess."

Aang pulled out the campus map from his back pants pocket. He was glad he had met Sokka before starting at Four Nations University. But the rush and business of the first day had exhausted him – and that girl had winded him. He slumped alongside Sokka with heavy feet, the optimism he had felt this morning slowly leaving him. He focused on walking evenly and stared at the sky. The first two days had been rocky, albeit promising. Appa had flown into a car upon landing at the university. Shortly after, Aang's luggage fell victim to birds on telephone wires. He spent the evening tending to Appa's scratched arm and cleaning off bird poo from his bags. But that girl… Aang felt that things were beginning to get better.

"Since you're not hungry, will you go with me to give my sister the car keys?"

"Didn't know you had a car," Aang admitted. More students flooded into the courtyard as classes were dismissed. Aang found himself searching the crowds desperately. Suddenly it occurred to him that he could find the girl – and speak with her and meet her – if Sokka wasn't glued to his side, nagging to find food and giving "experienced" advise. The airbender said with a smile, "Go one without me. I'll meet you at the gym."

"You sure?" Sokka asked quizzically. "You haven't met my sister yet. She's probably in a lot of your classes. And she's a genius. She can help you out."

"It's cool," Aang promised. "I'll just relax here and meet you up later. Plus I have a whole year to meet your sister. No big deal."

His companion shrugged and punched his shoulder. "Stay out of trouble, alright?" He turned around and started walking away. "Meet some ladies!" he advised over his shoulder.

* * *

"He's late," Zuko said. "We're probably not going to make the show." He wasn't particularly annoyed, but his voice gave him away. Katara dropped her book and looked at him over the table.

"You complain like a pregnant lady," she said, her eyes locked on his. "I don't even know why I'm taking you. You don't want to go."

Zuko walked over and sat next to her. He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her close to him. She smiled. In their five months together, he had discovered the shortcut to her heart – questionless surrender and admittance. It was the only way Zuko knew to appease the waterbender, who often complained of his inability to be romantic or expressive. Despite the aloof face he wore for her, he made it a goal to begin learning what she liked.

"I do want to go," he said. "I want to go everywhere with you. I just hate waiting for Sokka."

"We wouldn't have to if you hadn't totaled your car yesterday," she reminded him. "I don't know what I would have done if I was with you."

"It was that stupid flying bison," he said, suddenly animated. "The thing swooped in out of nowhere!" The rise in his voice amused her, and she laughed, turning to him and catching his lips. He returned the kiss happily, and – as if on cue – Sokka pounded both palms on the table.

"Nasty! I came to give you the keys, not watch a free show!"

Katara pulled away but Zuko kept his arm around her, his eyes narrowed on her expressive brother. Katara had warned him several times not to respond to Sokka's commentary. Both boys had tempers and both boys could hardly stand one another. It was a blessing, Katara often reminded Zuko, that her brother had agreed to keep the 'boyfriend news' from their grandmother. Yet Zuko knew that he had done this for Katara's happiness, and Sokka's idea of the firebender was not a good one. He had tried to talk his baby sister out of dating Zuko the entire duration of their relationship.

"You're late," Katara said calmly. Sokka tossed the keys on the table and Zuko caught them.

"It's not my fault. I had an orientation thing. New kid in his senior year."

"Introduce me later," Katara said. She and Zuko stood up, their fingers intertwined. Zuko tossed the keys in his free hand and caught them again. Up and down. He and Sokka stared at one another.

"You'd like him," Sokka answered, his eyes not leaving Zuko although he was speaking to his sister. "He's a great guy. Probably in most of your classes. And he's an airbender."

"Sounds cool," she said. "We'll see you later. We're heading to Public Square for the comedy show."

"Nice. If Zuko laughs, I'll refund you for your tickets." Her brother kissed her cheek and watched the young couple make their way to the sidewalk along campus. He didn't know why he still couldn't accept Zuko, but his feelings hadn't changed for five months. The tension was worse now, actually. He had been certain that it was a fling, something Katara would eventually outgrow in a few weeks. Clearly she had been disillusioned by Zuko, some attractive, older bender, top of his class and head of the Pro-Bending team. But they were still together five months after meeting. And the idea that the relationship was getting serious disturbed Sokka deeply.

It was his little sister, and she was growing up. As long as she was happy, thought Sokka, there was nothing he could do – nothing he _should_ do. "Keep telling yourself that, big guy," Sokka mumbled to himself. He watched them turn the corner and disappear. He put his hands in his pockets and set a course for the gym.


	2. Chapter 2

His search was unsuccessful, even after gym, which was surprisingly rigorous. As Aang made his way to the boy's dormitory, he began to devise a plan to meet the mystery girl. Most of his planning involved flattery or a flashy display on his part. Appa was a useful tool in this instance as well – his size and rarity was the best conversation starter Aang knew. Certainly the girl would notice his flying bison. He would introduce her. She would give him one of her genuine smiles again. Or airbending, thought Aang. In gym, most of the girls – earthbenders from the Northern Kingdom – had commented on his uncommonness. The virus that had infected all the other airbendrs had, for whatever reason, chosen to spare Aang. But he was not one for too much attention, and the stares and questions at the gym had suffocated and startled him. He looked forward to sleeping.

As if some greater power had kept track of his heart all day, Aang's secret wish was fulfilled. While looking at his shoes, he ran into the girl from earlier, knocking her bag to the ground with his shoulder. He shook his head and reached for the bag automatically. When he looked up to return it to her, he felt his stomach drop to his knees.

"Uh," he said, but he couldn't prevent himself from rambling. "Oh. God, sorry. Sorry, I totally just ran into you." He pointed behind him. "I just… have this thing where I'm walking and I'm thinking – you know? Do you do that? – anyway I just didn't see you at all – not because you're not noticeable or anything – you are – uh. I'm sorry." He held out a sweaty palm. "I'm Aang."

"Katara." Her hand was soft and dry, much smaller than his hand. His grip was a little too tight and he laughed nervously. After shaking his hand, she took her bag from him. "Thanks. I guess I wasn't paying attention either."

"Something on your mind?"

"The usual." Her eyes grazed his face momentarily, as if searching for an answer or determining his worth. Then she looked up and blinked. Aang wasn't sure, but it looked as though she had been crying. There were little, puffy indents just beneath her eyes. The rims of her lower lids were a little too pink. But it was dark, and Aang – forever an optimist – dismissed the idea. "School stuff. Family stuff. Boy stuff."

"Only one of those really matters," Aang said. To his surprise, she laughed. It sounded like a chirp.

"Boy stuff? You're typical."

"No," he said. "Family stuff." She fell quiet, still smiling, impressed by his answer. "With a body like yours," Aang continued, "Boy stuff shouldn't even be on the list. Have you looked in the mirror lately?" He paused but continued quickly, "Not to be too forward or anything… but, seriously, you're the best thing I've seen all day."

She laughed again – or chirped, and Aang realized he had already fallen in love with her laughter. And her smell – jasmine, sweat, and saltwater – it was doing a number on him. Her laugh kept up and he smiled with her, so glad to finally be in her presence. It occurred to him that he had been searching for her all day, and then she had just appeared, as if from thin air, right before him. The thought gave him jitters. He held on to his elbow and put his free hand in his pants pocket.

"I'm not that great," she said. "You're probably just having a rotten day." Her modesty endeared her to him and he couldn't speak. She said, "Aang sounds like an Air Nomad name. Do you have relations to the airbenders? Or were your parents just romantic and well-read?"

He blurted, "I am an airbender!" And then, to show her, he pushed both hands in the air and created a small, tight vortex. A few leaves joined his display, and it pleased Aang endlessly to see her smiling at him, clasping her hands together like a child at the circus.

"That's amazing!" she breathed. "Wow!" He heard a small beep go off in her pocket, and her face dropped suddenly. She pulled out the phone and grimaced. "Hey, I have to go," she said. She wagged her phone in her hands and rolled her eyes. "Boy duty calls. Again. But stop by the Open Mic nights on Mondays and Wednesdays. I'm always there. I want to know more about this airbending business."

He shoved his hands in his pockets again and laughed. "Sure, sure," he murmured. "And I want to know more about this boy business. What do you think? We'll trade. Deal?"

She smiled and held her hand out to him again. They shook briefly. "Deal," Katara said, and walked past him with speedy, light steps. He breathed in, his face warm, and stood still, unable to remember where he was going just moments before. He wanted to turn around and watch her leave, but he was afraid his body would deceive him again. He would end up chasing her just to be in her company.

"Today was a good day," he said to himself. He hummed an old Earth Kingdom romance song he'd heard at a play when he was a boy, and when he got to his dorm room - despite exhaustion - he found he could not sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Zuko's good news came as a surprise although she had expected it. After the comedy show at Public Square, the young couple visited Omashu's Tea & Eatery, a lively spot just outside of campus. As they waited in line, Zuko gripped Katara's hand a little tighter, and when she looked up, he disclosed in her ear that his application had been accepted to the Boiling Rock Graduate Program.

For the past two months, Katara had kept his head up, assured him that his application was sure to be accepted. She reminded him that his father, Ozai, although distant and uninvolved, was the dean of Four Nations University. Zuko was head of the Pro-Bending team, top of his class, and he had excelled in his bending exams last quarter. There was no reason, Katara asserted often, that he should worry. But Zuko, humble and unsure of his own abilities, hadn't thought he'd get this far.

"Zuko, that's so great," she said. "But that means you'd have to move back to the Fire Nation."

He didn't seem to notice her tone. "Yeah, I'd be moving at the end of the semester."

"That's an entire ocean away," she said.

Katara noticed he didn't pull out a chair for her the way he used to when they first started dating. She pulled out the green wooden barstool with force, the legs scraping against the ceramic tile. The noise echoed through the shop and a neighboring table of girls looked at Katara with narrow eyes.

"It's two thousand miles away," he said with wonder, and handed her a cup brimming with chai.

She asked, "So you're okay with moving?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" He drank from his own cup and smiled, golden eyes sparkling in the sunlight that shone through the windows. She must have been frowning as she watched him because his smile dropped, and he asked, confused, "Isn't that what you wanted? You just told me that it's great news." He laughed and shook his head. "I mean, I didn't even think I had a chance there! It's incredible. I'm so glad I listened to Azula when she told me to apply."

"I told you to apply too!" Katara defended lamely. What Sokka was to Zuko, Azula was to Katara. Zuko's younger sister couldn't have been more disliked by the waterbender, and Zuko knew this, and the fact that he had given her credit made Katara's face flush a deep red. "I told you to apply the day I fucking met you."

"Hey, relax!" he exclaimed. "You're the one whose acting like this is a bad thing. You just told me that you think it's great. Now you're cross-examining me."

"It is, it is," she replied hurriedly, shaking her hands in front of her face. "It is _so_ great. You just don't get it."

"What does that mean?" His left brow bunched upwards and his tone plunged low. His fist tightened on the table, the veins bulging like small, blue ropes. "I wish you'd stop talking in circles."

"Stop getting upset," she said. She brushed her fingers over his tense arm lightly, feeling the skin there, and looked up at him. But she was too angry to calm him down, and his gaze didn't soften when she touched him. "You know what? It's _such_ great news that you can celebrate it alone. I'm going home." She stood up abruptly and spun on her heels before he could stop her.

"Fuck," he said, loud enough for her to hear him. "Fuck. Katara, come here. Katara." He stood up and pursued her, but she was fast, and by the time he was outside, she was already in her brother's car, the engine revving.

She said from the window, "Do you want a ride back?"

"Stop being stupid," he said. "Why did you get angry? What did I do?"

"Do you want a ride back or not?" She pressed. "No?"

"No, I don't – I want you to come out here and talk to me."

"No? Then have a great walk home, Zuzu." She flicked her sunglasses down – they had been over her forehead holding her wavy curls back – and shifted the Oldsmobile into drive.

It was impulse to look in the rearview mirror, and she did so, watching him as his arms dropped, as he sent a hand through his hair, as he kicked at the curb and took out his cellphone to find another ride. She felt she had overreacted, but she didn't care. Zuko was oblivious to the fact that he was moving and leaving her behind.

He didn't mention how this would affect their relationship – if at all – or ask if she would be interested in being with him despite the fact that they would be physically apart. What was he expecting, she wondered now. Was it a given that they were over? Or that they would stay together? She did what she always did when she was angry beyond words, and talked to herself the entire drive home. Later, while walking to her dormitory, she would run into an airbender named Aang, and Zuko would try to call her, and she would sleep restlessly until Energy Anatomy, which met at the ungodly hour – 6 in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

The past three years had marred Katara as a product of contradiction. Her parents' suffocating love led to an unsuccessful love life, in which potential lovers were many and true lovers were few. Her brother's overprotective nature only encouraged her to pursue bad ideas further. Like all university students their freshman year, her inexperience marked her as an easy target for the weathered romantics. For Katara, it was a student journalist named Jet.

He was a river with a strong current and deceptive shores, so appealing from a map but so different up close. Their demise and undoing was predicted the second their glances shook hands, meeting in midair amid snowflakes and leaves, late November three years ago. It was the paraphernalia of novels and theatrics, so perfect and sugary that it stuck and stuck and stuck, unhealthy and sweet, sweet but corrosive.

He had spoken first, his tone even but grainy, bobbing like the tip of a wave. "Where have I met you, gorgeous? A dream?" She had laughed obediently and covered her smile. In a bold act that she would be doomed to remember forever, he reached for her hand and pulled it down to her side, holding it in his for a while. "Don't do that," he said. "Don't ever cover that laugh, those teeth. Okay?"

Jet could charm a serpent-hound with his words and idealism, with the way he spoke about the future and the way he wrote about the past. He took his life experience to his journalism – wrote editorials about his childhood as an orphan living in treetops, his scholarship to Four Nations University, his conflicts as a success story, the fierce hope he held to help children who were in similar predicaments. But nothing was as convincing to Katara as his dark eyes, colored like tree bark with specks granite, as characteristic as his childhood spent in canopies and his young adulthood spent in the city. Jet's eyes undid her, undressed her, swallowed her whole – and she stood before him spellbound and stupid, young and gorgeous. "Please," she wanted to say. "Take me." She was unaware of the sexual context of this back then, knowing only that she wanted to be part of his world, this glorious, unreachable object of dreams, so close to the sky and so far from the ground.

She didn't know when she opened her legs for him – three months after they met – that she would regret it only weeks later at his graduation. She was a stranger to love; she had never held a boy's hand, much less kissed one, and the prospect alone of becoming something modern and dangerous became so appealing that it had dizzied her, made her cling to Jet despite his obvious downfalls. There was a danger in Jet that invited her to love him further, obsess over him, fall for the darkness and poverty he represented. Perhaps there was no darkness at all, and now, years after the fact, Katara could easily recognize her obsession as fear. She had always loved Jet more than he loved her, and that was the only sin between them, that was what had predicted and executed their red light. It was too easy to adore him and too difficult to stop – so he stopped it instead, graduating and moving to the east coast, lusting for big cities with skyscrapers taller than trees and windows as large as walls.

She didn't know why she remembered him now, but she did, possibly because Zuko was also planning to move. When she had known Jet, it was early her freshman year, before she had made any real friends. With no one to offer advice or give counsel, Katara had dug a hole for herself and, stripped naked and spellbound, gladly threw herself head first inside. The turn of events was expected. He had fooled her, taken her precious innocence away, and there was no way to regain her sanity than to give it time. Luckily, today, there were friends, advisers, potential lovers, and a roommate that also wrote the advice column for the school newspaper. When Katara got back to her dorm, she was relieved and excited to find Suki still awake, and she sighed, "Oh, thank God."

"Glad to see me?" Suki mused from her bed. She had insisted on the top bunk the day they met. She put her book down and turned to the waterbender, a loud yawn already at her lips.

"Got a second?"

"For you, dear, all the time in the world." Suki slid down the wooden ladder and reached for their mini-fridge. She tossed a bottle of coconut milk to Katara, who caught it unexpectedly with both hands.

"One day, that's going to hit my head and I'm going to forget who I am. And it'll be all your fault!"

"Perfect!" exclaimed Suki. "Amnesia is the only true cure to the Zuko drama."

Katara rolled her eyes at Suki's cheekiness. "Stop," she said. "He isn't that bad. He's just confusing me."

Suki crawled back up to her bunk and crossed her legs over the edge. Katara threw her satchel down, a denim and khaki piece that Sokka had brought back for her when he studied abroad in the Northern Earth Kingdom. Since then, Katara had decorated the piece with beads and feathers, and the satchel looked more like a canvas of tribal art than a vessel for books and pens.

Suki secretly envied Katara's intrinsic sense of style, her ability to seamlessly stream into high fashion, and Katara secretly envied Suki's natural beauty and unperturbed nature. Where the waterbender insisted on an hour of makeup time before class, Suki could roll out of bed with nothing more than her underwear and appear as clean and fresh as a goddess. But their petty jealousy was little more than admiration and curiosity. They loved one another like sisters, and in the past two years, Suki's decision to accept Sokka's dating proposal had brought the girls closer together.

They were not without their differences, though. Where Suki was an open book, Katara refrained from outlining her dating history in detail. Katara knew all of Suki's failed conquests and successful mistakes, disclosed by the brash girl over coffee and in between classes, her eyes brazen and mad, her lips tight. Suki was a master storyteller and she believed in confession, in setting the soul free, in being honest so as not to fall prisoner to your lies. So Katara knew it all, and yet Suki knew very little of Katara's history outside of Zuko. Until tonight, Katara had intended to keep it this way.

Now the waterbender fought with herself; the desire to weep over Jet was too strong, too attractive, and long overdue. She had been too ashamed to cry before, heartbroken and alone, too proud to run to Sokka or Gran Gran with the unthinkable news of rejection and guilt. Katara closed her mouth and pressed the soles of her palms to her eyes. She fell backwards on her low bunk, her mind as blank as the pillow. Suki grimaced at the thud and shook her head.

"What's that stupidity gotten himself into this time?" she asked, distressed. "We'll straighten him out before his cocky ass graduates in May."

"It's not his fault," Katara said, sitting up just long enough to take a sip of coconut milk. "I kind of overreacted and left him hanging at Omashu's."

"You didn't!" Suki hooted, laughing. "You bitch!"

Katara smiled and defended lamely, "I had to. You should have seen. I was too angry to sit with him without going at his throat like a crazy."

"He probably deserved it."

"I am unforgiving," admitted the younger girl. "I don't know what I expected out of this, but I still expected something."

Suki shrugged, her shoulders rolling backwards easily like little waves, and Katara marveled at how the girl could take a hopelessly complicated knot of a situation and untie it by untying the muscles of her body. How simple and how intricate her powers, thought Katara, suddenly wanting to replay the scene at Omashu's. Zuko would have stared at her calm response with a dropped jaw hanging foolishly over his lap. If only, thought Katara, she could have Suki's calm nerves for just one day. "We all have expectations," Suki admitted, her gaze drifting to the ceiling of their room. She looked on dreamily. "You might expect everything and you might expect nothing, but you still expect. That doesn't go away. It's human."

"Then I want to be an alien," lamented Katara. "Or a frog."

Suki couldn't help it – she laughed again, and her laughter urged a few giggles out of Katara as well. "Why a frog?" asked Suki. "There are sexier animals than that!"

"There are no sexy animals."

"Life isn't worth living if you can't do it sexily," joked Suki, lifting one of her eyebrows to give a mock suggestive look. "What will your fan club do if you go frog? Imagine. Total mayhem. Those poor boys are lost without you."

Katara grinned and sat up again, reaching for her satchel and rummaging for a book. Suki was a better friend than she was, the waterbener thought suddenly, and despite the lightened tone of the night, the idea made her heart as heavy as a stone. It wasn't fair. Katara had been so wrapped up in Zuko and his problems and desires and moods that she had drifted away from this hilarious mess of a girl.

Despite their shared friendship, the closeness they felt as sisters, Katara had never disclosed the truth about Jet, how he had damaged her, how she was drawn to boys who needed her to guide them, needed her to fix them. The most Suki knew of Jet was that he had interviewed Katara for an article in the paper, "Future Freshmen Figures," in which he had predicted that Katara would become one of the most powerful benders to graduate Four Nations since the infamous Hamma. In the article, there was a picture of Katara taken by Jet, her blue eyes grayed because of the black-and-white budget of the paper, her full lips pressed into shy, toothless smile. You can see the flash of the camera reflected in her eyes, but there is another spark there too, as bright as a coin. This girl is in love and she doesn't know it yet, dressed in her winter coat, posed outside of the school's bending arena in the snow.

The most Suki had said about the article was that Jet had made a spelling error near the end, substituting "power full" for "powerful," a comment made between sips of chai on a rainy afternoon in December, a year after the article had been published. Suki had found the copy under Katara's bed and mistook Katara's sentimentality for vanity. "You keeping this because your picture's in it?" the girl had asked, fluttering her eyelashes and pouting. "My name is Katara! I'm so gorgeous that I get my picture in the paper! Boy I wish this reporter knew how to spell! Oh well, at least he got my good side!" They had laughed then, Katara saying it was there collecting dust, a complete accident of messiness. But when Suki threw it away and headed for class, Katara had fished it out of the trash bin, wiped it off, and hid it underneath her bed again, her eyes wet, unable to read Jet's name under the photograph.

"You remember that article?" Katara started uneasily, hating the shiver in her voice. "The Freshmen Figures one, with my picture in it."

"Yeah," said Suki over her book. "The shot where you look like a deer in headlights. Or dear in headlines?" She added with her musical laugh, "I'm on a roll for puns today!"

Katara smiled back and forced herself to swallow. "You remember the guy who wrote it?"

Suki was silent at first. She purred a long, "Mmmmm," the ending of which Katara dreaded. Suki turned the page of her book thoughtfully, her eyes fogging over like a tea glass. "No," she said. "I don't think I remember him. Why? Does he want to do a follow-up article? Maybe get some shots of you without the coat?"

"Ha! Pervert!"

"Honestly. Think about it. Freshmen Figures? That'll be the true discovery of the student body." She winked and the action caught Katara off-guard somehow, as if Suki knew a secret Katara could never know, some esoteric ability or humor. She asked, as sweet as bird, "So when is he doing the photo-shoot? Who is this guy?"

"He isn't doing a photo-shoot," Katara replied anxiously. She blurted, stumbling on the confession, "I—I slept with him. Freshman year, I mean." Suki's silence prodded Katara to go further, and Katara couldn't stop the words. They rolled off her tongue with the sickly ease of oil. "He ruined me, Suki. He ruined me. I slept with him and he ruined me."

The weight of the words was enough; Katara crumbled, three years overdue but still as poignant as if the ordeal had passed just yesterday. She collapsed into her lap, her shoulders stooping inward as far as they would go, her back shaking with small, bubbling sobs. "He ruined me," she repeated. Suki jumped down from her bunk and wrapped her bare arms around the waterbender fiercely.

"Don't say that," she said at first, but when Katara continued crying she found she could do little more than stroke the younger girl's hair and rock her back and forth gently.

"He ruined me. I loved him and he ruined me." Her voice was strange to her, heavy like lead in her throat but light in her ears. She sounded like a little girl, nasally and uncertain, and Suki's motherly reaction only furthered the notion. She was winded, tired. This secret had stayed in her heart for too long, eaten away bits and bits of her in the way blood eats up gauze, in the way coffee eats at enamel. But now, her head in Suki's lap, she felt as clean as a sheet of new cotton. In her sobs, she smiled and laughed, and throughout it, continued crying. In her overlapping mania, she felt the curse of her old habits and delusions fade away into tears and grins. "I loved him," she told Suki in a defeated whisper. "I loved him and he hurt me, Suki. And no one ever knew."


	5. Chapter 5

_i've received a good number of requests asking for more frequent updates - i'm flattered that you are all taking time out of your schedules to read and review me (& especially review me), & i promise i will try my hardest to produce at least a chapter a week. keep in mind & heart that i am a university student (as i suspect a few of you are as well, or if not, then mothers or fathers, or working people of the world) & as such do not be so hard on me if i am late; i am entering professional school next year; the fact that i still write fanfiction - & enjoy it - is both remarkable & a little embarrassing, but i am not so prudent to not laugh at myself._

_it was mentioned that 'pro-bending' is an invention reserved for korra. to this review i answer with a throaty, hearty: duh. i like it. this is why it's in this universe as well - i see no reason for it not to be, & it fits the demographic & the sport need. _

_my laptop had a stroke. if any of you love me, you will buy me a new one & ship it to scorpiaux on the double (i am mostly kidding) - to make up for my broken technology, you can all make my day by submitting a review? xoxo. _

* * *

With Jet off her chest, and the morning sun painting her sheets butter yellow between the blinds, Katara felt Tuesday speckle over her in tight, bubbling rivets. Her shoulder was asleep, the pins and needles sensation reaching down to her elbow. She grimaced and tossed to her back, then stretched backwards into the mattress, then tangled her slim fingers through her hair, pulling it up and out, then finally – with some difficulty – sprung up from her bunk and reached for her toes.

Her body tensed, numbed, and relaxed. The wood floor here was warm from the sun, and Katara's bare toes kneaded at the polished floorboards appreciatively. The waterbender smiled to herself and, feeling generous and restless, decided to take a quick shower before hitting the gym. Meanwhile, Suki remained still and quiet in her top bunk throughout Katara's gymnastic stretches, yawns, and squeals. The thought of waking up the older girl to join her for the morning occurred to Katara, but she knew better than to tempt Suki's irritability. The Kyoshi native was certainly not a morning person.

The bathroom in Suki and Katara's suite was well-organized, albeit rather small for two. They had lucked out in renting the cheapest apartment in the newer Juniper Residencies. The 'bigger' option called for 300 extra gold pieces each semester, a sum that totaled six semester credit hours. "That's absurd," Suki had suggested, rolling her eyes in disgust. She tossed a different pamphlet to Katara and raised her eyebrows, as if indicating something on the paper. "They're already robbing us blind at this school by making us pay three silver pieces for a fucking sushi tray at lunch. Why don't I just sign off my firstborn son while I'm at it? Spirits."

So they had taken the plunge, in some respects, by renting out a single instead of a double suite, and sharing the bedroom and the cramped bathroom. The deal was just too appealing to pass up. In truth, the only reason either would need a double suite would be sex. But both Zuko and Sokka had their own rooms, and Katara and Suki never brought boys over to a shared space. To quote Katara, doing so would be "unethical" and, in Suki's terms, "just plain nasty."

In the shower now, Katara counted on her fingers. Her period was a few days late, but this wasn't out of the ordinary. She often went weeks in the past without a single cycle, bloating up so that her pants and kimonos bulged unevenly, refusing to go to classes for days at a time, weeping at her disfigured hourglass shape, hiding under the blankets in tears and hysterics, complaining of tight-fitting bras, then finally caving and drinking barrels of spicy, green parsley tea – the only really effective remedy although it made Katara gag. The circus act often lasted a week. Those were the days Zuko was careful and alert not to jab her temper.

Three, four, five. Five days late, the waterbender thought. She would have to make some parsley tea later this evening. The prediction put knots in her stomach, but she was in too good a mood this morning to let it phase her. "Then there's Zuko," she said to herself, and rolled her eyes at her own misfortune. She wasn't going to deal with him today. Suki – as always – was right; they had enough drama between them to pass for an occupation, and she needed a day off. Out of the shower now, still beaded with droplets of water, Katara reached for her cell phone and, in one expert movement with her right hand, removed the battery. "He can leave a message," she said to herself, and strolled back to her bedroom, humming softly to herself, blue towel wrapped loosely about her hips.

* * *

Ozai was sending Zuko away to the Boiling Rock Graduate Program at the end of this term. She knew his application had been denied – twice – but his father, being the dean of Four Nations University and among the more prosperous producers of industrial benders in the world, had used his charm and intimidating figurative girth to, quite literally, twist a few arms.

Zuko would be among the lower rung of the new class at Boiling Rock, but he would still be enrolled. Sickening, she thought, that Fate would force her crush and her friend to be brother and sister. Even more sickening that Zuko's father was holding all the puppet strings. At least Azula would get into Boiling Rock on her own credentials without daddy coming to the rescue.

Still, Mai found it did little to dwell on it. She needed her anchors again, the pieces of reality that kept her grounded and sane. After all, she reminded herself, she wasn't even enrolled in Four Nations – she just worked here – and although she couldn't stand Azula's domineering personality, monotonous voice, merciless judgmental opinions, and blatant close-mindedness, truly – truly, truly – she was lucky to have her for a friend. She was even luckier to have Ty Lee. The three had known one another for years, and although Azula and Ty Lee were fortunate enough to enroll as full time students – either by birth right or scholarship – Mai still considered it a good idea to have physically stayed with them, otherwise they would have grown in opposite directions.

Besides, Mai's high school grades were self-deprecating; she almost didn't graduate. In high school she had found a niche as the cold, aloof quiet girl who was beautiful enough not to care about outside opinion, unfeeling enough to befriend the meanest student in the class, and a tad confusing and mysterious – sharing an esoteric friendship with a pretty, flexible, popular girl. Mai, swirled up in her own enigma, cared as much about her grades as she did about her image. Needless to say, neither worked in her favor. She was at once a genius and a flunk, a beauty and a prude, quiet and distant. Not surprisingly, Azula and Ty Lee were her only lasting acquaintances. A borderline schizophrenic and a trapeze wannabe maybe weren't the best pickings, but they were something.

Yet the real reason she had accepted the apprenticeship at the Four Nations Security Base, Mai knew, wasn't because of her mushy, nonexistent buddy system with Ty Lee or Azula at all. It was all for Zuko, Azula's awkward older brother. As far back as Mai could remember, she had felt the need to stay close to him. As she aged, this need too developed, and now, at twenty-two, Mai teetered between obsession and infatuation on a daily basis. Whenever she saw him (twice a day, once as Zuko made his way to his first class and again as he parked his car behind Cedar for lunch), Mai felt as if her meaningless, bleak outlook on life was all a farce. Something fierce and sparkly existed in Zuko; she just needed to figure out how to crack it and take hold of it, hold it in her hands, between her fingers, until she felt that warm fluttering all the time, not just at 10 am and noon.

They spoke – sometimes. They talked of little things that were general enough not to be interpreted negatively or positively. The weather. Azula. Grades. How-is-your-semester. He often forgot she was not enrolled and would ask about her own grades. She corrected him in the beginning but then learned to nod and answer, "Fine, you know" instead of embarrassing herself with his forgetfulness each time.

She found she could not meet his eyes when they spoke, and feared that this gave the impression that she was not interested in talking to him. Despite the fact that he was the top pro-bender on the team, Zuko had maintained several awkward tendencies from his childhood years. Mai guessed he was no longer a virgin but he did virginal, inexperienced things. When standing still, he swung his arms at his sides, clashing his fists together. He rocked on his heels. He threw his fingers through his hair, drenched in sweat after a match, revealing a few stubborn, fresh pit stains. His painfully off kilter characteristics only endeared him to Mai further. She couldn't look at him or his general direction, afraid to blush and give herself a way, or say something that could be interpreted with some sort of opinion – positive or negative. Afraid he would look at her eyes and see himself in there and just know. Thus, after a few more one-sided conversations, Zuko gave up communication with the girl who didn't look at him, and would leave the gym without so much as a wave or a nod of recognition.

Mai was destined to go unnoticed. And now that Zuko was preparing for his orientation at Boiling Rock, Mai felt more helpless than usual. She wouldn't be able to follow him that far. Just the thought of not having Zuko around – and simultaneously losing Azula and Ty Lee – drove Mai to a bleaker disposition than usual. She sat slumped in her chair at her usual gym post, her back curved inward and her nails tapping the counter in an agitated manner. In her black and red uniform, and with her eyes dangerously narrowed, she certainly looked the part – Head Security Official indeed, and not a force to be reckoned with. As if on cue, Ty Lee cart-wheeled to Mai's desk near the door from the inner gymnasium, her hair tied up with a bow. She squeezed Mai into a tight, sweaty hug.

"Do you ever shower after dance?" Mai asked, wrinkling her nose. "You know it's free."

Ty Lee beamed with her eyes closed. "Oh, stop!" she replied cheerfully, bending forward and grasping her own ankles. "I don't like to shower in public. I'm going straight home after this."

Mai knew the real answer, and she suddenly regretted making that remark. Their freshmen year, Azula and Ty Lee had both enrolled for a dance class that met early in the morning. Ty Lee, predictably, had no problem stripping down and showering in front of an audience when the class was dismissed. She had no reason not to; her body was perfect, full. She was confident and comfortable. Azula, however, out of some self-consciousness or jealousy, couldn't bring herself to do the same. She had pranked Ty Lee bad the second week of class, burning up all of her clothes while Ty Lee was in the shower, singing loudly to herself. Later the gymnast was forced to trek back to the freshman dormitories with nothing on but a towel, barraged by whistles and hoots from girls and boys alike.

Now Ty Lee sprung back up and bowed to her friend. "When is your shift over today?" she asked suddenly. "You know it's Zuko's birthday. We were thinking of going out."

Mai felt her drumming fingers freeze in midair. His birthday. It was the one date she had never pushed herself to pursue, afraid she'd obsess, afraid she'd remember it forever. But now she knew. Tonight. And she was invited.

"Well?" Ty Lee stood expectantly, her hands on her hips.

"I – I don't know," Mai stammered, feeling her face flare up and hating herself for it. "I'm off at six. Do you want me to meet you guys at Omashu's?"

Ty Lee clapped. "Great! Yes! And no, not Omashu's. We're going big tonight." She closed her eyes briefly and sighed, leaning her weight on her arm, standing lopsidedly on Mai's counter. "Zuko's bringing some of his hot pro-bending friends. Older guys. We're going to Rough Rhino's near Kai Zhu. I'm driving!" Ty Lee yanked out two small keys from her pants pocket and dangled them in the air as proof. "This is great!" the girl said again, hugging Mai tightly. She sat on the counter then in front of her friend, her legs crossed, the slight mix of feminine sweat and rosewater perfume hovering before Mai's nose. She was smiling, her dimpled chin as sweet and round as an almond cookie. There was so much light in this girl, thought Mai, envying the ease with which Ty Lee lived life and pushed others to live theirs.

What else was left to do but wonder what to wear?


	6. Chapter 6

_this is short; comment anyway; proof that i am alive & thinking of you.. xoxo. scorpiaux_

* * *

Rough Rhino's was not a place for girls like Mai.

The club was located a floor above the local pharmacy, about three miles away from campus. Mai and Ty Lee rode in Azula's car, a cherry red number she had acquired on her own birthday just a few months back. Strangely enough, she had also brought Zuko a present, perhaps in an attempt to show off her own large allowance - money that she and Zuko collected from the same pocket. Just this morning, Azula had visited a famous clothier in downtown Kai Zhu, a man named Youngling Ching who specialized in men's clothing. She had purchased Zuko a navy Y. original for his upcoming interview at the Boiling Rock Graduate Program, wrapped it up in sparkling gold paper, and tossed it in the trunk to reveal to him later that night.

Mai was definitely the more conservative of the three. She had elected to wear a gray and black dress, form-fitting and low cut at the chest, but she also wore a pair of cloudy tights and a simple heel. The ensemble was complete and classy with a black lace jacket that zippered up to the neck. She looked good. Azula and Ty Lee would have agreed if they weren't so busy poking fun at her decision to cover her legs.

Azula and Ty Lee, meanwhile, went red. Azula in black skinny jeans and a red lacy shirt that was almost a bra; Ty Lee in a ruffled crimson ballerina skirt and high boots. They rode in the front seats of the car with their heads high - crimson, rust, and blood colored. They were gorgeous, their youth spilling from their bare limbs, and Mai - although she couldn't put her finger on it at first, exactly - felt a form of power. It was good to be out late and have friends as rich and absurd and beautiful as Azula and Ty Lee. She felt a closeness with them but also a distance, as if she would be doomed - or blessed? - enough to remember this night forever.

Her primary thought was Zuko. Although she wasn't sure if she would talk to him tonight, she was excited to be in his company, to see him outside of his regular class schedule. Her arms were dotted with goosebumps the entire drive here. But when they were admitted to the club, their hands stamped and their IDs checked, she almost forgot Zuko in his entirety.

She had never seen anything like Rough Rhino's before. The music was loud and rhythmic, the lights flashing and colorful. There were drinks on high tables, drinks on low tables, drinks on the bar counter in front of full stools. In the corners, young women - some she recognized from the university - smoked slim cigarettes, their fingers fussing in the air about some random detail, some gossip gone unnoticed. She saw young women and men on the marble dance floor, their shoes new and leatherette, swaying and bouncing to the music.

Couples kissed with tongues and hands. Young men surrounded the beautiful girls like sharks, their hair slicked back with oil, their button-down shirts tucked in and clasped tightly at the waist. What caught Mai's breath the most was the togetherness and simultaneous disjointedness. Everyone was dancing and moving, some to their own song, but together it looked like the most elaborate dance Mai could imagine. They smelled like sweet alcohol and fresh sweat and citrus cologne. Mai didn't have to drink at all to be thoroughly intoxicated with the scene. In the flashing light, in the deafening music, everyone looked good and young and full of life. She didn't notice it herself, but she was smiling.

"I can't wait! I can't wait!" squealed Ty Lee, voicing Mai's own thoughts. "This is going to be one for the books!"

"Don't get wasted," Azula warned in a dangerous monotone, removing her sunglasses. "I'm not cleaning up vomit or semen from my backseat tonight."

"You won't have to, I promise," Ty Lee returned brightly. How the flexible girl was always able to dodge Azula's negativity remained a mystery to Mai. Ty Lee rummaged in her handbag - a small, sparkly piece dotted with purple sequins - and unleashed a few gold pieces. "Drinks on me, ladies!" she announced, hugging both of them tightly before slinking her way to the bar.

Azula went after her, murmuring, "Wait, Ty Lee, you don't know what I want. We have to find Zuko first." But the girl was deaf to the firebender's musings, and Mai smiled lopsidedly as Azula chased after her.

Aside from admiring the club scene, Mai realized she didn't know where to start. She had brought Zuko a small gift, and as it stayed clasped in her clammy hands, she realized she should find him first and give it to him. She wouldn't feel too out of place, she imagined, if she was walking with a final destination in mind. The thought gave her peace as she searched for him, but in the light, it was hard to distinguish the finer facial details of the patrons. Everyone looked the same, the lamps casting just the right shadows on the eyes and jaw. She thought about joining Azula and Ty Lee at the bar, but then decided against it. She wasn't interested in drinking tonight, afraid of going too far or doing it wrong, or having some other impossible stupidity occur accidentally and embarrassing herself in front of her friends - or worse, Zuko! No, no. No drinks tonight.

But Rough Rhino's was not a place for girls like Mai. And she didn't have to look too hard or too far to find the object of her desires and daydreams, the boy she had loved and cared for deeply since her youth, standing at the far corner of the club with a bottle of Spirit Water in his hand and a woman wrapped carelessly about his neck.

Mai blinked and refocused, the gift suddenly feeling heavy in her arms. She stole away to the wall, dotted with lamps and ink drawings and old graffiti and looked at the couple more closely. The woman was dressed in silver and blue, a white halter top snug around her torso and a glittering shawl around her shoulders. She had a tight pair of skinny jeans and heels that wrapped up her toes to her small, tan ankles. Her hair was long and wavy. She couldn't tell the color because the light made everything look red and gold, but she could see it was thick and tangled, and she thought "sex hair" and hated herself for it. Her arms were thin - they fit about Zuko's shoulders and neck perfectly. She had one hand cupped on his cheek and - after someone in their group of four said something funny, and Zuko smiled that shy, knowing smile of his - the girl turned his face and kissed him long on the mouth. His eyes opened wide and he grabbed her waist. Someone hooted and the girl flicked them off, her finger manicured and deadly.

This is how the club went from having a sense of wonderment to immediate misery. Mai couldn't close her mouth. It was as if she had visited the circus for the first time, fallen in love with the sounds and the tin horns and confetti, the elephants and the zebras and the lion tamers, and suddenly - very suddenly, before she could finish her popcorn - the car full of clowns turned the corner and ruined the night with red, red lips and toothy grinning.

For whatever reason, she had never imagined Zuko to be in a relationship - or, if not, never to be so comfortable in this public display with a girl whose body symbolized perfectly what men feared and adored. Mai blinked again, unsure what else to do. Afraid that Zuko would look her way, she made a path quickly to the bar. _Zuko_, she thought, his name a distant, unreachable thing. _Zuko_. How was it possible? This wasn't the boy she knew.

Then she realized she didn't know him at all. The possibility of Zuko being very different than the ideal she had painted since she was seven made her queasy. Without thinking, she requested a drink and took a seat near Ty Lee and a brawny pro-bender who had lost his shirt.


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't tell me what to do."

He had heard it all before, but Katara had never hissed it with an edge like this. Since his baby sister had learned to speak, she had always emphasized her independence, always insisted she could function without her brothers' wisdoms or keen, watchful eyes. But today her tone was fierce and stark; she was not the toddler in diapers and pink booties anymore. She was the young woman in revealing blouse and mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

He narrowed his eyes, his voice cross. "I told you, if you're going, you're not going like that!"

"I can go any way I damn please!" she shot back, picking up her coat and slinging it over her shoulders.

He asked, hoping to dissipate the focus of her anger to someone else, "What, did Zuko ask you to come looking like his hooker?" Her eyes opened wide at him. "Look," he continued, his hands up in defense. "I'm worried about you. Rough Rhino's might as well be a brothel."

"Then why are _you_ going?"

"Because I'm a _guy _- "

"Ah!" she yelled, her lips pouting. "There we are, that blessed, genetic double standard! Beautiful, beautiful. Thanks for the lesson in universal fairness, _Gran Gran_. You want to play that game?"

How the sarcasm chaffed his neck! "Katara - "

"Which one of us is the bender? The non-bender?" She poked his chest with two fingers. "I'll be perfectly okay in a dark room full of cups and liquid. You, on the other hand, mister boomerang guy - "

"Knock it off," her brother yelled at last, smacking her purse from her hands. It landed sideways, its contents spilling like toys from a chest. They both turned to looked at the makeup and car keys on the carpet. She almost dodged down and grabbed her bag, planning to make a run for the exit. But she held fast. They were too old for the cat and mouse chase.

"I said I'm worried. It's his birthday and he's going to get wasted. When the guys told me they were going tonight, I wasn't planning on going with my little sister... much less when she looks" - he motioned at her body and turned his face, blushing just over the cheekbones - "like...like this. All hot and young and... I'm worried, okay? We'll both go. Forget I asked you not to."

They were quiet for a while. Katara rubbed her arm. "I'll go change the skirt," she said at last, quietly. "You're right. No one needs a free show." He smiled at her and they hugged briefly. She made her way back upstairs and returned with a different outfit. Sokka still didn't approve - her halter top a little low cut, the jeans a little too tight. But he resolved the issue, asking why she never wore the shawl he bought her last Solstice, and she made a guilty face and went and got it. This, Sokka thought, was a lot better.

He had no reason to fear for Katara's safety, and he knew as much, but he couldn't help being overprotective. Katara was beautiful and - the kicker - too approachable. Everyone on campus loved her. She made instant friends, her bright eyes and engaging smile... a recipe for trouble. "Too beautiful, too dangerous," Hakoda warned, but she would kiss his cheek and hug his neck, and then he'd give Katara all the permission in the world.

Truth be told, Sokka was a little jealous. Suki couldn't come out tonight because of her junior qualifying exams tomorrow morning. He would have to settle for his knucklehead friends, some pro-benders and non-benders who frequented Rough Rhino's for cheap beer and easy girls. Maybe he'd ask Aang to come later. But it wasn't like having his girlfriend there. Often, Sokka would express his frustration with boring plans on Katara, and she knew it. If he wasn't hyperfocusing on Suki, he was hyperfocusing on Katara. At least Suki knew how to dilute it. Maybe he really did have ADHD.

When their Oldsmobile stopped behind the club, Sokka locked the doors and threw the keys in his coat pocket. "Text me when you want to go home," he said to his sister, "so we can drive home together."

Katara crossed her arms, her right brow raising to a sharp pinnacle. It was chilly here, September surrendering to October, but she didn't seem to notice the temperature. Sokka wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and chin. "Oh? And what if I have different plans tonight?"

"What other plans can you possibly have?" he snapped back. "I thought you were fighting with Zuko. You're coming tonight as his _friend_, right?" He knew he was overstepping some unspoken boundary, but he couldn't help it, thoroughly annoyed with his sister and her choice of lover. "Are you seriously telling me you're going home with him tonight?"

He saw her pupils constrict to pinpoints, her irises as bright and crisp in the dark as neon lights. She answered loudly, insulted, "That's none of your business. How dare you."

"I'm looking out for you," he said in his defense. "I don't want you with him anymore."

"Don't tell me what to do! Don't tell me what to do!" She covered her ears with her gloved hands and turned her back to him, facing the night sky as she walked away. He knew then he had lost her. She was going to do everything she could tonight to piss him off.

* * *

The brawny pro-bender who had lost his shirt was not a pro-bender at all, and his shirt wasn't lost. He had tied it around his brown hair like a turban to soak up his sweat and show off his chiseled chest. When Mai joined him and Ty Lee at the bar, he ordered two Lechee Margaritas and a bottle of Spirit Water. "In honor of good company," he said, and Mai suspected he was already a little past tipsy but she was depressed and didn't care.

"I _love_ love love your necklace," Ty Lee beamed, reaching to touch the tooth that hung from the boy's neck. He pulled Ty Lee's arm so that she was sitting on his lap.

"What a coincidence! My necklace loves you!" He looked at Ty Lee with a slack-jawed smile.

Yes, Mai thought, rolling her eyes. Well past tipsy indeed.

Ty Lee giggled, swinging her legs around his thigh. He grinned coyly. "What kind of tooth is this?" she asked, her hand pressing the tooth to his chest. Clearly, Ty Lee was not above his advances. She thought he was gorgeous and wasn't attempting to hide her attraction; she was practically drooling, dizzy with his attention.

"Moose-lion," he answered. "My friend Foo-Foo-Cuddly-Poops passed away recently. I raised him since he was a cub." The boy shot a glance at Mai, who was unintentionally glaring at them. "You haven't touched your Lechee, sweetheart," he coaxed.

With the boy and Ty Lee looking at her now, and with her gift to Zuko left stranded on the counter in front of her, she shrugged and tipped the glass to her lips, surprised at the sweet taste. She thought alcohol was supposed to taste bad. Her only experience was a sip of tonic from her parents' cabinet while they were away on holiday. It had tasted strong enough to deter her from continuing. But the sweetness of the Lechee was welcome. It reminded her of a candy she used to crave all the time as a child. She sipped again, remembering cavities and card games.

"Atta' girl!" the boy bellowed, raising his bottle of Spirit Water. Ty Lee and Mai clinked their glasses politely. But then he looked at Mai intently and frowned with concern. "Why do you look so down?" he asked her. "What's bothering you? Tell us. We are all friends here."

Mai looked deep into his eyes then, trying to find the sober version of this Adonis. He was attractive, but she didn't think he used his looks to his advantage often. There was kindness and softness in his voice and his mannerisms that made him less intimidating than some of the other guys at the bar. Mai noticed miserably that it was the same 'big brother' protectiveness that she had come to love in Zuko. Good, misunderstood intentions. Gentleness. Mystery shrouding a deceptively simple mindset. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head at her own stupidity.

What did she know? This boy probably wasn't a big brother. She didn't know him. For Ty Lee's sake - because the acrobat was making it so clear with her body language and pitch that she wanted very badly to go home with him tonight or at least get a kiss or two before leaving - Mai replied coolly "I'm okay. I always look like this." She forced a tight smile and he took a swing of his Spirit Water, his eyes not leaving her. "You never told us your name. The barbie doll on your lap is Ty Lee. I'm Mai."

"They call me Sokka. At least, in the Water Tribe. I am not an oaf." Ty Lee and Mai exchanged glances. He laughed, "What? It's a haiku! You don't like it?"

"I love it!" Ty Lee answered immediately, hugging his neck. "I love poets. And this Lechee is really good."

"Two more," Sokka called to the bartender with a wink. "Drinks on me tonight, ladies. I don't want to see your purses. I don't want to hear 'no.'" He jogged his leg up and down so that Ty Lee's breasts bounced. Sokka closed his eyes and grinned at the ceiling. "There is one more lap for you, sweetheart," he called to Mai. "What do you say?"


	8. Chapter 8

_this is short, again. we have finals this week & next :( my broken heart._

_yes, this is tokka & kataang. but there are a lot of things that will get in the way before that happens. lots of drama. this is long; get ready_

* * *

He wasn't sure if this was the right address. The number Sokka had given him – 1473 East Eighth – led Aang straight to a small pharmacy on the corner of two main streets. Where was Rough Rhino's? More importantly, where was Sokka?

The older boy had called him half an hour ago asking him to come out tonight. Aang was hesitant at first – Gyatso had warned him about the evils of the big city, specifically drinking. "You won't be yourself," his adoptive father had warned. "Imagine your worst self – every base impulse, every thought that isn't thought through. This is the person you become when you drink." Aang had kept his word when he promised Gyatso he wouldn't try it.

And he had tried explaining this much to Sokka, too, but the boy was unresponsive. "You aren't in the monasteries anymore!" Sokka bellowed over the phone. Aang guessed then that Sokka wasn't exactly sober. "Aang, listen to me. You're at _Four Nations_. Are you seriously going to let some backwards old-world knowledge ruin your two years here? You're new! Come make friends! Come meet girls!"

But the only girl Aang wanted was the blue-eyed and evasive Katara. He considered the possibility that she could be at Rough Rhino's tonight, although it didn't seem to be her cup of tea. Still, the possibility enticed him.

"I can go to pick you up," Aang offered lamely. "I'm probably a real light weight and I don't want to take chances. We have qualifying exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," Sokka moaned. "Why do you think Suki isn't with me? Just join us already. We're having a good time. Don't be late. Here's the address."

Aang called Sokka back now, staring blankly at the pharmacy storefront. Sokka's phone rang as Aang kicked a pebble between his feet. He tensed his shoulders, a chill making its way around his exposed neck. "Should've brought a sweater," he said to himself.

When Sokka didn't answer – and after Aang had tried his number three times – he gave up. What was left to do now? He couldn't find the club and he was freezing. He zipped up his jacket and walked under the pharmacy's canopy. It was snowing now, the flakes soft and flat, bright against the backdrop of the evening. Aang sighed and shivered when he saw his breath. He closed his eyes. He could hear music, muffled and distant, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from.

A minute later, he watched as a bright red car pulled up next to the corner's curb. He realized that he probably wasn't visible under the canopy. A girl kicked open the front door and stepped out, her legs pale and thin. She held a blue flame in her palm that made her face seem even paler. She walked to the trunk of the car, wobbling just a little, and opened it up, reaching for a large gold and silver box.

His nature got the best of him. "Hey," Aang called out. "Do you need any help with – "

Before he could finish, she had snapped her head in his direction, her orange eyes glowing bright in the darkness. The blue flame quickly turned into a sharp string of lightening. Aang pushed himself out of the way with a blast of air directed at the storefront behind him. In his spot, she had crumbled and charred the sidewalk, leaving behind a spiny trail of smoke.

"What's wrong with you?" he yelled crossly, picking himself up from the ground. He readied a fighting stance. "I just wanted to know if you needed help with your package."

She put her arms down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at her nails. "You startled me. Creeping around in the shadows like a common thief. You're lucky I'm in a good mood. I would have had you arrested any other day." She reached into the trunk of her car and took out the box, which was – to Aang's delight – much lighter than it looked.

"Arrested for what?" He dropped his arms too, but – finding it was far too cold to act cool or aloof – decided against it and wrapped his fingers around his shoulders.

"Anything. I don't know." She paused and looked at him again. "Are you going to stand there with your mouth open or help me take this upstairs like you so graciously offered?" Her brows were lifted and her tone was sarcastic but clear. She threw the box at him before he could answer. Aang caught it in midair and almost considered throwing it back. So far, his experience at Four Nations had been a positive one, despite being the 'new kid' well into his undergraduate experience. But this girl. Her mannerisms and monotone, as well as her cold, metallic beauty… all of it inspired fear.

She walked ahead of him, her heels clacking lightly against the sidewalk like a metronome. "Let's go," she called over her shoulder. She clicked a remote on her keys and her car beeped and flashed. He followed her up to Rough Rhino's without questions, wondering who the package was for. She had written in blue ink, "To Zuzu – with something akin to love. Don't blow the interview." There was some lipstick next to the tag where she had painted her thin lips in red and kissed.

* * *

This smell was unfamiliar to him – lilac and faint vanilla – but before he registered the smell, he registered her hair. Long and silky, it tickled the edge of his nose and the stubble on his chin like a spider's web. This is what woke him up at first. When he breathed in and smelled her, when he registered the extra weight on his mattress, the slight snores and clucks that she released in deep sleep, he thought to himself with a start, "Oh, no."

He lifted his comforter and rolled out of bed gently, his bare toes carrying him to the bathroom. He closed the door and turned the faucet on, splashing cold water on his face with both hands. In the mirror, his blue eyes deceived him – he looked well-rested and happy, the bags from the night before now totally erased, a light blush over his tan, taut skin that gave him a youthful glow. But he felt a pang deep in his stomach and it resonated to his throat. He didn't feel hung over but his head was throbbing; he pinched his temples with his forefingers and thumbs. He looked at himself in the mirror again and frowned.

"Stupid," he whispered to himself, pounding his left fist on the cusp of the sink. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

What now? There was a strange girl in his bed. He didn't remember bringing her home. Attentively, he peeked his head out the door and observed her. Her hair covered her face and the comforter covered her body. The only clues were unwelcome ones – a bright tutu on the floor near a set of high boots, one flipped over in haste. A black lace bra. Panties striped gray, pink and red. A colorful night, certainly. One for the books. Sokka slapped his head and pulled his hand down to his chin. He bit his fingers.

He wasn't expecting her to wake until he had thought of an escape plan. Such luck! His drunken alter ego obviously showcased a generosity that he couldn't afford. He couldn't leave his own room and he didn't know why he hadn't followed her to hers. As he bit his nails at the door, the girl stirred, reaching a thin arm over her head and stretching, a full-mouthed yawn at her lips. She sat up and stretched some more, moving her hands through her hair and tying it up in the back with a scrunchie she kept on her wrist. Sokka felt ill at the notion that this was her only clothing this morning. But the universe proved him wrong again; when she stood up and stretched (very impressively, at that) he noticed that she was wearing his jersey. She bent down to the floor, her backside to him, and reached her ankles. She put a leg over her head and bent to the ground. Sokka, though disgusted with himself, couldn't help it. He felt an erection swell up behind his boxers and, panicking, slammed the door.


	9. Chapter 9

She was persistent, and in the face of this new horror, he commended her for it, wondering if she woke up in strange rooms often enough for it to be some commonplace prank in her life, a youthful passing between new strangers, games and a conquest that always ended with, "and then we woke up." She was conventionally beautiful; thin and desirable. She could have anyone.

But the knocking ceased for a moment, and she confessed to the wood of the door, "You know, this hasn't ever really happened to me before, and you're freaking me out." Sokka guessed she was speaking close to the knob and keyhole. He felt his stomach drop to his knees for misjudging her and consequentially locking himself up as though she was a rabid animal that had bared its teeth.

But there was courage, despite the fear and guilt, and he cracked the door open, making sure his body had settled before making an appearance. He checked the mirror quickly, shocked to see how his face had already betrayed him – his eyes were wide, his mouth forcefully pressed to a serious line, brows furrowed as though he was considering how one appropriately reacts to the inappropriate.

"Judging by how you're handling this, I'm guessing it hasn't really happened to you either, has it?" the girl asked coyly from the door. "Oh, just come out already." When he didn't move, she added in an urgent whisper, "I gotta pee. Want me to go on your bed?"

This convinced Sokka that she was non-threatening, but would become so if the bathroom remained locked, and he muttered, "Uh—um, no. No, this hasn't happened to me. And no, please don't do that." With a gruff sigh, he pushed the door open and motioned for her to go in. She ran in on her tiptoes and sat on the toilet without closing the door. Embarrassed, and again unsure how to react, Sokka sat with his back opposite the bathroom and then forced himself to think about Suki. He knew there were no answers to this, no easy, slimy way to erase his tracks, but he couldn't help flip through the possibilities in his head regardless.

When the girl flushed and washed her hands, he craned his neck to meet her gaze. She pulled the striped panties up and stretched again, this time toward the ceiling, and then – unexpectedly – reached all the way back and grabbed her phone from the floor.

Sokka blinked. He said, his voice cracking and clearing, "You're… uh, really good at stretching." He coughed into the crook of his elbow and looked away.

She bounced to his spot on the bed and reached across to touch his cheek. He turned fast, surprised, and relieved to find her smiling.

"That's cute," she said.

"What is?"

"You. Being polite. You don't have to. I guess we've been through introductions." She rolled her eyes and grimaced, her soft lips folding over in a resolute, nervous frown. "My name is Ty Lee. And I'm only saying that because I can't remember yours." She held out a hand to him, and Sokka took it.

"I'm Sokka. And I'm so sorry. This… this whole thing really isn't my scene either." He paused, considering if he should tell her – but he couldn't lie, and asking for more guilt on his consciousness would be a death wish in full. "I uh… I have a girlfriend," Sokka blurted, pointing to his chest. The scum in him felt pleasure when Ty Lee's face fell, as if the thwarted fantasy was, in some twisted way, a victory for the machismo in him. He even felt a pang of regret saying it, realizing that they would never know what 'this' was – that their future together was doomed to remain platonic despite a night of passion that neither could remember.

But she surprised him. "I don't do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing," she answered.  
"But that's cute. She's lucky. You're lucky." Then her demeanor lifted and she giggled. "No worries," she added, making a mock whispering gesture with the cup of her palm against her cheek. "I won't get you in trouble!" She winked.

His laughter surprised her, but he couldn't help it. She was cute. "A relief, my dear," Sokka replied happily. "But I still have to figure out what to say to my girl. I'm an idiot for this. I'm glad you're so cool with it."

Ty Lee sat cross-legged on the bed and smiled at him with her teeth. Perfect teeth, thought Sokka miserably, and he forced himself to focus on the posters behind her. Suki had bought them back in Kyoshi; they were done by a blind artist who had claimed to escape death from the Unagi. The posters showed the eel twisting amid high waves and a sandy backdrop, all with the same words at the bottom, printed as clear as a blemish: "There is no greater monster than that which lives inside of man."

"It's funny," Ty Lee observed as she removed his jersey and handed it to him. "I remember meeting you at the bar with my friend Mai, but I know I've seen you around campus before."

Sokka tore his eyes away from her naked breasts; the whiteness reminded him of Suki and this comparison was enough to unravel his morals. For a second, he half-considered propositioning Ty Lee to remain his secret bedfellow, a concubine in confidence. He couldn't help his twisted musings this morning, it seemed. In his heart he knew he was confused at this turn of events and was thinking of possible worst things to soften the effect of last night.

"I've seen you too." He took the jersey from her with his gaze on the floor and tossed it in the hamper – then, panicking, he remembered Suki did his laundry along with hers on the weekends. He made a mental note to fish the shirt out later and cover it in his cologne. "I'm always at the gym. I might have seen you there."

"No," she said, twisting her body backwards and sideways and picking up the scattered remnants of her clothing with her toes and fingers. He watched as she bent and plucked, dressed and straightened. "If you saw me at the gym, you would have remembered." Then she grinned sweetly at him and bent to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you for… hmm. Thank you for – what I assume was a great night," she said cheerfully. "Maybe get coffee with me tomorrow morning? I can help you out if you need to tell your girl. I can vouch for both of us being high on Spirit Water."

"That would be a dream," confessed Sokka quietly, smiling with the side of his mouth. "I think I'll probably end up doing it alone, though. It's my mistake. My responsibility."

"Here's my number anyway." Sokka noticed she was already programming it into his phone. "I'm always around."

He took the device from her and stood up, unsure what the etiquette was now that they were parting.

"This is the loneliness that gathers strangers," Ty Lee mused, sporting her bright-eyed smile again. Sokka found this rather astute for someone athletic – he caught himself judging her again and rubbed his neck. She was looking around his room and taking it in. "We are butterflies in this net, Sokka. I'll see you." She turned on the heels of her high boots, her tutu ruffling with each flighty step. As soon as she left, he missed her. He made his way to his bed and turned off his phone.


	10. Chapter 10

_i have been incredibly lucky to have loyal reviewers & readers; and recently, artists!  
__check out this fan art from the faithful fandom... many thanks, Adelheid A. you inspired me to update quickly. remove all spaces & enter the following address in your browsers! _

_ht_

_tp_

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_/ moonlight - dancing . tumblr. _

_co_

_m / post / _

_38848112880 /  
azula-and-ty-lee-meanwhile-_

_went-red-azula-in#notes-container_

* * *

"Katara. Katara… Um. Katara?" He lifted the comforter off of her slowly. It was a chilly morning and her body reacted to the robbed warmth, shivering from the shoulders down. She hugged her shoulders and moaned, holding her hand out to him with the palm flat, intending to push him away.

"Hey, I don't mind spending the morning with you," he said. He caught her arm in midair and returned it to her side. "But I have qualifying exams, and your roommate's already left. You gotta wake up so I know you're okay."

She seemed to register this; she unfolded like a damp cash bill, loose strands of hair matted to her forehead and left cheek. Her eyes fluttered but they stayed shut after the display, and he suddenly felt nervous, unsure how she would react to him here. Even in this disoriented, slightly hostile state, he still found her beautiful. Her lips pouted out like dumplings, thick and inviting. Her brows, tweezed and perfected the night before by Suki, stayed perked and inquisitive even in sleep. And her smell… Aang wondered if it was possible for sweat to smell so sweet. Perhaps it was pheromones. He would be lying to say that a platonic night had been simple. But he had pushed through and kept his hands – and other body parts that had occasionally peeked and resettled – to himself.

Katara moaned again now, stretched an arm over her head and then, in a swift and expert movement, pulled the covers back up over her face.

"No…" He smacked his forehead. This was going nowhere. "Okay," he said in defeat. "Okay. You win. I have to leave now. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Aang pushed his arms through the sleeves of his gray blazer and zipped it up. He patted his back pockets out of habit to check for the two essentials – a wallet and a small plastic bison whistle. He pulled the latter out, ready to call to Appa to make it in time for the exam.

When he turned the lock on Katara's door and pulled it open, a dream catcher equipped with feathers and bells jingled and clashed against the door, and Katara sprung up unexpectedly, the springs of the mattress squeaking with the shift. Aang looked over his shoulder to find her staring intently at him with wide eyes.

"You're up," he said cheerfully. He pulled on his earlobe with his free hand, a nervous tick he had yet to outgrow. Aang found he could not meet her face; she perhaps felt vulnerable, waking up without time to prepare herself. He smiled sheepishly at his shoes. "I'm glad you're okay," he said. "I was just about to go."

But if the waterbender felt any apprehension about their morning together, she didn't make it especially obvious. She turned and got out of bed as if she didn't hear him, stumbling a little and holding her head. Aang wondered if she knew she was in her pajama's – a thin tank and blue booty shorts, both that highlighted her assets, so to speak. She pushed her feet in a pair of fuzzy slippers and met his eyes by force.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Did you" – she turned to look at her bed, as if searching for proof – "did you sleep here last night?"

"Yes!" he blurted. "I mean, no, but yes." True, he was an airbender, and in every other situation, he was quick to think on his feet, but he was finding that girls – specifically this girl – had a dampening effect on him. He cursed the upbringing that hadn't prepared him well. "You were really… um, tipsy. And you got into a fight at Rough Rhino's, so I brought you home."

When her eyes widened at his explanation, he added with haste, "But _nothing_ happened. I promise. I didn't drink at all. I was just worried that… you know, something would have happened to you if I just left you alone."

"Where's my roommate?" she wanted to know, still skeptical. "Who let you in here?"

"Suki did, the girl from Kyoshi. But she left around three am to go to the library and finish studying. She said you were snoring too loud for her to sleep anyway." He smiled with the side of his mouth. "I mean, you kind of were. And she let me use her bed. I swear." He bowed with his hands pressed together. "Monk's honor, Katara. It was hard" – she laughed here – "but I'm not… I'm not that kind of guy."

He saw the gears turn in her head, deciding if she should believe him; her eyes glazed over as she dropped her arms, a light blush making its way across both cheeks. She grinned at him. "Thanks," she said, and he couldn't help but notice that she was a little embarrassed. She pulled a robe on, much to his displeasure, and reached forward to hug him. He was stunned, but he returned the gesture quickly enough and hoped it didn't seem too eager.

"That was really nice of you." She held her temple with her fingers and hummed under her breath. "Jeez," she whined. "I'm gonna go grab a coffee." She looked up at him with one eye closed. When he didn't answer, she added quietly, "Did you… um, want to join me?"

"I wish I could," he said, shrugging though his heart was pounding. "But I'm already ten minutes late to the qualifying exams. It looks bad. The new kid skipping on his first week here… so I gotta go. Next time, Katara."

She looked disappointed, but it passed. "Oh, right, right… You better get out of here." She pushed him through the doorframe; he felt content with her hands on his back, and he laughed. "Tell Suki I said good luck," she called after him. When he left, Katara sat on the edge of her mattress for a moment, and then turned her head to check the window. She saw him blow the whistle he had been holding earlier, and out of nowhere, an enormous, fuzzy bison swooped down in front of him. Aang released a blast of air between his feet and spiraled up to the reigns. Katara watched with her mouth open. So that was the bison that had totaled Zuko's car! She shook her head in disbelief, happy through the throbbing in her head. She texted Sokka a good morning and, when he didn't reply right away, she realized she had never got Aang's number.

She remembered the fight, and after fixing a coffee in the suite's kitchen, she considered calling Zuko to check on him. But there was no point, no redeeming factor that would erase their words. She knew it was over and was surprised to find relief instead of heartbreak. Frankly, she didn't care if he was okay or not, and this surprised her.

And the airbender. Did she really believe a college-aged boy had stayed the night in some righteous big brother protective act? Please. But there was no proof he had done otherwise. And Suki wouldn't have left them alone if she didn't trust him, if she hadn't conversed with him at length and knew he was in the clear. Plus, she was dressed. And she had dressed herself if she was wearing her favorite tank and shorts.

No, Aang was okay.

In truth, she was lucky he had come to her rescue. Sokka had disappeared early despite his warnings. And Zuko. She didn't feel like thinking about him now, but the display last night was beyond what she could have ever expected from both him and hs sister. She'd ask Aang for a recap the next time she saw him, because she couldn't remember specifics. Maybe it was true, what everyone said about drinking. You hear the truth and you react to it honestly.

* * *

Mai arrived late to work the next morning. In her haste, she had forgotten her security belt, and in effect, the small blades the belt was designed to hold, as well as her ticket book and ID card. When she realized what she had forgotten, all she could do was roll her eyes and shake her head at her absentmindedness.

The head security official, a tightly wound woman named Len Hoa, lent Mai a replacement belt as well as a dirty look. "Don't let this happen again," she said. "I'm letting you off easy because you've never been late to work before. Make it the last time, too, or I'll replace you. There are thousands of clowns waiting for a gig like this." Mai doubted this was true, but she handled it as she handled everything, with quiet reserve and annoyance that was mistaken for respect and shame.

The night before was not a complete blur, but it was, in many ways, a disappointment. She had bought Zuko a sculpture of a turtle-duck, animals that they had tortured and played with throughout their youth. Seeing him with the curvy tan girl had emptied her spirits, though, and she had tossed the gift on the pile in the corner without any words of farewell. All she could mutter to the boy of her dreams was a salty, quiet, "Happy birthday," to which he replied, after a fast and tipsy double-take, "Uh, thanks. Mai, right?"

"Right." But she hadn't been in the mood to continue conversation, completely deflated from the sight of Zuko with another girl – something she had never expected and wasn't sure how to react to.

Instead, she walked home in the cold and retired to her parent's library, skimming through the volumes of government documents and psychology texts from her parents' college days.

Her father was a city official who had recently been demoted; her mother had studied psychiatric drugs extensively but never graduated, staying at home instead to first give birth to Mai and then, years later, her little brother. Mai now had suspicions that her mother bartered in opium and acetaminophens. Her father often drowned his sorrows and failures in strong tonic from the alcohol cabinet. But this night, they were away on holiday to visit relatives up north, and no one stopped Mai from filling glass after glass of Ging's Gin. Loopy and depressed, she had fallen asleep on her father's leather library chair and woken up at 10 am, three hours later than usual, the drool on her chin sticking her to a book.

Now, in her work uniform, Mai slumped over the desk and yawned with her entire mouth. Ty Lee was late to the gym this morning too, and Mai suddenly realized that she had probably went home with the "sock" guy. The thought concerned her. She had seen Azula on her way out with a boy trailing behind her, carrying her gift to her brother. This stung even more; her friends could get boys to do whatever they wanted. She couldn't even get the attention of some awkward, mediocre firebender she had known for most of her life. "What a joke," she muttered now, and tapped her fingers angrily against the counter top.

To her surprise, when the power doors of the gym swished open for the first time since her arrival, it wasn't Ty Lee and it wasn't her anal supervisor. It was Zuko.


	11. Chapter 11

_** note to my faithful readers ** _

_i have been 'out of the office' with a fractured wrist, and all of my stories are currently on hold. recently, because of the volumes of messages and reviews regarding this story specifically (though this note was mentioned in my author bio, but i'm old fashioned in assuming people still check those) i have decided to include a chapter update with this information on it. _

_this story, among others, will be updated as soon as the cast come off, in about four more weeks. i thank you for your continued patience and your interest in my writing. you should all be flattered. this message took me about forty-five minutes to write. _

_until we meet again,_

_scorpiaux _


	12. Chapter 12

_woah scorpiaux is alive? dat's cool right? ok. firstly, i do apologize for the long wait & i wanted to update as an apology present. _

_for the crazies who got violent with their requests to update, i have a few words of advice. while i am flattered you are so invested in the story, you need to chill. or get a girlfriend or something. only a small percentage of readers (submitted __anonymously - figures) were like. legit angry. i mean, dang, i broke my arm. & i have a very active life outside of the internet. my life doesn't revolve around pleasing you. it doesn't even revolve around pleasing my guy. so relax? scorpiaux will take care of you in due time. have patience._

_for those of you who were so gentle & kind with your requests & inquires, i thank you from the bottom of my heart & dedicate this update to you. it is quite short, but proof that i'm around, and i think it sets up the rest of the fiction nicely. get ready for katara's bad girl side to float up involuntarily. review me or not, the choice is yours, but please be respectful.. we may not all be adults here, as i can't speak for everyone, but common decency is free & if you're rude, all you're doing is giving me a laugh with my morning coffee. & you're only making the awesome reviewers look even awesome-er. _

_scorpiaux _

* * *

She wasn't sure whether to get his attention or not, and for once, Mai didn't know herself if she was looking forward to speaking to him. Usually, Zuko would make her feel sick, stir the butterflies in her stomach until all she could do was utter a muted, "Huh? Uh. Hi." But not today. Today she realized she felt nothing upon his entrance but cool, cool apathy, and the relief one feels after suddenly getting over a bad flu.

"Hi," he said on his own. Mai looked up at him, one brow higher than the other, and didn't stop her customary tapping on the desk. He looked at her nails, smoky polish emphasizing her white hands, and he clamped the back of his neck with his palm.

"Hi," she said mechanically. "Do you need access to the bending rooms upstairs? They don't open until noon." She made to reach for the keys around her waist.

"No." He hesitated. "No, I don't need a bending room."

She stopped and returned her hands to the desk, sighing audibly. It was incredible what she felt towards him – not just disregard, but budding contempt. She did not attribute this to being fickle. Quite the contrary. Mai knew what fickle was, saw it in Ty Lee. The acrobat was nothing but fickle. She picked up boys just as easily as she left them, to remember nothing but their first name and the color of their eyes. And even those she mixed up on a regular basis, shrugging and laughing that bubbly laugh, as smooth as pebbles rubbing together.

Mai's contempt was fueled with years of attention, all lost – she realized now – on someone she never knew to begin with. She didn't hate him, she hated herself for thinking he was anything more than what he looked like. Just a regular guy. A little better looking than average, but not spectacularly. Certainly he was a gentleman on occasion. And he had a gentler heart than his sister, that was certain. Also, he was one of the best benders on the Pro-Bending team for Four Nations – but he wasn't the absolute best. Outside of these small truths, Zuko was otherwise unremarkable. He was a boy who enjoyed bending to express his innate aggressiveness, his anger towards his father for favoring his maniacal younger sister and his own incompetence that was reflected in his 'last of the pile' acceptance to Boiling Rock Grad.

She was disgusted that she had loved him enough to give him qualities he may have never had. Because he was in love with someone else, or at least, was sleeping with some other girl, someone who had inspired a strange feeling in Mai (did she want to call it jealousy or plain inadequacy?), a feeling that had driven Mai to her father's tonic cabinet for a drink.

She realized he wasn't speaking and she rolled her eyes. "Look, if there's nothing I can help you with, then you'll need to move on because – "

"Okay, okay. Listen." He took a deep breath. From his back pocket, he removed the small ceramic turtle duck Mai had given him for his birthday last night. The gesture surprised her, she realized, not because he had brought it back, but because he had been sober enough, after all, to open it without breaking it. She looked at the duck, then back at him, her brow not descending to join the other.

"That's for you. It's not mine."

"I know, but you gave it to me, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she said, her monotone peaked towards the end of the word and she turned away from him, afraid of what this small incline in tone foreshadowed. "Happy birthday," she said the floor.

Zuko took a step closer to the desk. "Well, thank you," he said. "This is a… really nice gift."

"It's whatever."

"No seriously. I mean, Azula got me a Y. L. Chang's Original from downtown. A really nice suit, you know. Only, on the tag, she was like 'Don't fuck up the interview.' I mean, no matter how nice the gift is, that just seems like a really irrelevant thing to say." He noticed he was rambling, remembered he never did, and stopped abruptly, embarrassed he had invited Mai to his inner monologue. At least now she wasn't looking confused and annoyed. She was smiling, thought Zuko. Well, almost.

"Congrats on the interview. You should be thrilled. But I have a job to do today and you can't just hang out here."

"We can hang out somewhere else," he offered instantly. He was eager and made no motion to hide it. Mai watched as he carefully dropped the small duck back into his back pocket, his hand clasped around its small, porcelain body until it was safely embedded in the fabric.

"You don't have something better to do?" she inquired skeptically.

"What do you mean? I want to hang out with you."

"Why? Because of some stupid duck?"

"No. I mean, yes, but not like how you're making it sound."

"I'm just stating facts, Zuko." She stood up without meaning to, and in this new position behind the low, wooden desk, she looked as powerful as ever. Her security uniform, adorned with zippers for various compartments, a nightstick, and her borrowed belt hanging loosely around her slight hips, gave her the impression of authority. She could hide in this uniform, become a figure of strength and controlled violence. With this feeling fresh in her heart, she looked him straight in the eyes, focused enough so that she could see herself in that tiny pool of black surfaced on orange. "I'm not saying that I made it especially obvious that I ever had a thing for you – it's dead now, don't worry – but you can't just walk in here and expect me to believe for a hot second that I'm not choice number two. I don't want to hang out with you. Not now, not in a million years, not _ever_."

* * *

She looked at the box furtively, examining the boxes around it before letting her eyes graze over its pink lettering. "Pregnancy Test" was misleading, she thought, because it connoted an exam meant for passing, for excelling, and she was the top of class and dwelled on this thought momentarily before a boy brushed past her and reached for a pack of "THE BOULDER" extra-large condoms. Katara blushed, wondering how she hadn't lost that ability over the years, and turned her face when he grinned at her and winked a single green eye.

"Didn't know supermodels shopped at the Cabbage Stand," he said. "You got a name?"

Katara hissed between gritted teeth, "If you don't back off, you won't need to worry about shopping for those anymore." She opened her tea tumbler, the soft brown water rushing up out of the mouth of it, coating her fingers. She willed the water to a thin whip and struck at the boy's heels. He screamed – high pitched, as she expected – and ran off behind the shelves.

She turned her attention to the box again, letting the tea drop to her feet.


	13. Chapter 13

_Short. More frequent updates now that I am done with school. Let me hear your thoughts. Much overdue love._

* * *

Katara threw her backpack on the bed and reached for the plastic bag she had brought back from the Cabbage Stand. In the dim light of her dorm room, she pulled out a box and noticed it was the wrong one – to lessen the effect of buying a pregnancy test, she had also bought a small box of assorted gummy animals. She rolled her eyes just as Suki stated from behind her, "Those for me?"

She didn't know Suki was home. Inside, Katara jumped, but she was controlled, cool, not wanting anyone to know about her endeavors this morning. "Yeah," she said softly, "remember the solstice festival when you ate a whole bag of them?" She turned to Suki and tossed the box up to her bunk. "Saw these and thought of you," she lied. "Enjoy, girl."

"My saint."

Suki pried the lid of the box open with her nail file and, preoccupied with the unexpected treat, dismissed Katara's sudden generosity. Just last week the waterbender had complained of Sokka's spending habits and their joint bank account, concluding with, "I need a job. Bad." Suki munched on a rubbery penguin candy and purred with delight. She had the worst eating habits of anyone she knew but still managed to keep a full, formed figure, her daily gym visits both a blessing and a curse. Sokka played a role, too – she loved to look good for him though he often appeared in her suite unshaven and sweaty, excusing his behavior with sentimentality – "I just wanted to see you so bad. I came over as fast as I could."

"Have you seen your brother around?" Suki asked after swallowing. "I haven't heard from him all day. I texted him as soon as I woke up and it's almost two."

"I haven't heard from him either, actually."

"Hmm." Suki jumped off her bunk and stretched. Katara could tell she was feigning aloofness – her voice shook when she cleared her throat. She adjusted her jeans and pulled up a pair of lime green socks, suggesting to herself, "Maybe I'll pay him a visit. Do you want to come?"

"What? Why should I go?"

Suki turned to her and raised a brow. "Because he's your brother? I don't know. Aren't you the least bit worried? He hasn't contacted either of us. Usually he's over every day emptying out our fridge."

"Then it's a good thing he skipped a visit!" Katara buried her anxiety with a loud, sharp laugh. Sokka was the least of her worries now. "Am I right? I'm starving."

Suki zipped up her jacket. "Are you feeling okay there, Jumpy?"

"Never felt better," the waterbender claimed. "Tense for exams. I don't know. I'm going to make something to eat. Do you want some?"

"I'll get something on my way to Sokka's." Suki pulled the door shut behind her and Katara listened to her footsteps tap down the two flights of stairs. She turned her own attention back to the bag from the Cabbage Stand, and with a deep breath began reading the fold-in instructions.

* * *

At Omashu's, Sokka let his head sink between his arms. His forehead met the marble countertop and he closed his eyes, thinking about the acrobat and Suki and wondering how he would explain – if he were to explain – the ordeal to his girlfriend of two years.

Two years. It didn't seem that long, he thought. He had never felt bored with Suki. It was just the opposite… he often felt she would grow bored with him. Then why had he slept with Ty Lee? True, he was drunk enough to hardly remember it, but it had started to come back to him piece by piece. After two cups of strong, black coffee, three mini-muffins, and a plate of eggs and hash, he felt better, less woozy, and as a result, his memory began recovering. He found he remembered more than he thought and wasn't sure whether to feel pleased or proud or terrified that he had it in him.

Why Suki? She was a good girl, always worrying about him, stressing out about looking good so that she would keep his interest. She was the one who made most of their plans together, insisted they hold hands when they walked, demanded to spend as much time together as possible. Sokka went along with it because he loved her – why wouldn't he? She was good to him… and she had the three golden traits that every boy his age looked for: "smart," "funny," "attractive." There was literally nothing not to like. Often he wondered if she liked him more than he liked her. Those 2 a.m. texts that said "I miss you" when he had left her alone to study, or those long letters she wrote for him while she was in class, or those random presents just "because I was thinking of you" … he never returned the favor, not once. He bought her gifts for her birthday and anniversaries. They were thoughtful but not extravagant. Ashamed, he looked at the classy golden wristwatch she had purchased for his twenty-third birthday last month. Not only was it a limited edition, it was also a Y. L. Chang piece, and he knew without asking that it had cost a small fortune. Sokka banged his head on the counter twice and moaned audibly at his own stupidity. His nose was runny, and the moan sounded more like a snore even to his own ears.

"Don't break the tabletop with your sleepy skull, Snoozles," a voice chastised. "I don't need drool or cracks everywhere." Suddenly Sokka felt the table push back against him. It happened too quickly for him to react – instead he felt his hung-over limbs grow loose as the table moved him so that he was sitting upright. In a second, it returned to its original horizontal position.

"What just – how did that just…" Sokka looked up to find a girl with foggy, white eyes. She stood behind the counter with her arms crossed and a good-natured smirk.

"Earthbending," she answered. "Ever heard of it?"


	14. Chapter 14

_reactions welcome bc idk where this is going lol... thanks for my consistent reviewers! i luh you..._

* * *

"No," he said, returning her sarcasm. "Please, enlighten me. Feel free to smack my head with the table again." He felt tense; usually he wouldn't have reacted so inordinately, but this morning was a critical low in his college career. Not only had he never cheated on Suki, but he had never gotten so drunk. Stupid drunk, the guys would have called it. But 'stupid' didn't do it justice. Being drunk made the blame place murky, and without something to point at, Sokka found himself lost and angry. He wanted to swing his club at this person who was not him – this thing that had happened beyond the boundaries of his control. Where was he? What was he? If he could do this to Suki, he was lying to himself, lying to Suki… and what else was he capable of now? Suki was not his first, but that didn't make the act any less important, and less heavy. She had changed him. Found value where there was nothing but lust and pride before. While he dwelled on this, he let his head sink again, and was met with a sharp flick to the forehead.

"Hey, I meant it," the girl said again, louder this time. She pointed to his face. "You're going to get drool all over. It's my first day and they told me I'm in charge of cleaning these counters. And I _don't_ want to clean up your mouth slobber."

"Are you blind?" Sokka shouted from his bowed position on the table. "I'm not sleeping! I'm fucking depressed! Do you _see_ my mouth open?"

She fell silent momentarily. Then Sokka's chair moved away from the counter. He looked down to find the ceramic tiles of the shop had grasped the legs of his barstool, and were flipping backwards, taking his seat with him.

"I _am_ blind, FYI," reported the foggy-eyed earthbender. "And I'm a runaway, broke enough to work in this hell hole catering to pricks like you. You're a full grown man. Whatever the fuck is depressing you can't be all that bad."

Embarrassed that she had drawn attention to their conflict, Sokka jumped off the barstool and collected his backpack and keys without responding. He pushed the glass doors open with his head down when Suki's voice made him snap his neck upwards.

"Where have you been?" she asked. Her eyes were narrowed, confused, and worry made her voice tremble. Sokka recessed back into Omashu's. "I've been looking all over for you. You weren't at your apartment so I came here to ask about you." She wasn't trying to yell at him, but the surprise of finding him at last – and here, for all places – made her voice loud and her tone sharp. Sokka noticed more faces had turned to him.

"Let's talk outside," he offered. "It's cramped in here."

She shot him a glance that gave him goose bumps. "What is there to talk about?" she challenged. "Tell me here."

"Yeah, Snoozles, tell her here," called the blind girl from the counter. She had stopped wiping down the smoothie glasses, and instead propped her head up on her elbows. She gave the illusion of interest with perked brows and high cheeks. Had Sokka not known she was blind, he wouldn't have guessed it, the way she could imitate facial expressions like this.

"Who's she?"

"Newfound adversary," Sokka mumbled. "Babe, please. Outside?"

She followed him reluctantly. He held her by her wrist and led her to his Oldsmobile. He leaned against the driver door and opened a pack of cigarettes. He held the box to her in offering.

"You don't smoke!" she exclaimed, and held her nose. "Where did you even get that? It's gross. Put it out. Who are you trying to impress? Where were you?"

"I used to smoke before we met," he confessed slowly. He looked up and exhaled. "In the South Pole, everyone smokes. Katara and I smoked since we were kids. Here, she smokes every once in a while. I see her. But I quit because I knew you didn't like it." He smiled warmly at her, and despite her anger and confusion, her expression softened. She put both hands at her side, and now reached up to rub her elbow. She looked at the ground. "I was still trying to get you to know I existed," he laughed. "You were telling this girl that you hated guys who smoked. So I quit the next day."

"That's sweet of you to even remember." She paused to think. "That was two years ago."

"It's no big deal." He breathed deep, pulling the burning end of the tobacco closer to his face, his full lips tight around the yellow skin of the cigarette. "Do you want to try it?" he asked without looking at her.

"No."

He grunted and spit. "It tastes bad," he admitted. "I didn't like it at first either."

"Where were you?" Suki asked with crossed arms. "I was worried. You weren't answering your phone."

Sokka had never felt cornered before. He threw the butt of his cigarette under his boot and sighed. He pushed his hands through his hair and clasped his neck. "I need a minute," he said. "Give me a minute."

"Why?" Suki tapped her foot with an impatient, uneven rhythm. "Just tell me where you were. Were you with that girl?"

"What? Inside? No!"

"Then what is it?"

"Can you please just – just…" What was there to say? How could he explain his guilt to her? Sokka was not a practiced liar – in the family, that had always been Katara's forte. He felt that there was no choice. If he didn't come clean now, their relationship would never be the same again. She could already tell something was up and they had only been around one another for five minutes. The cigarette calmed his nerves but there was a buzz, too, and he looked into Suki's eyes wildly. This is it, he thought. If she was going to throw away two years of their lives because of his stupid mistake, that was her decision.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I have to tell you something," he said. He reached for her hands and held them in his. "I want you to know that I love you and it was a mistake." He recounted the events in a low voice. She covered her eyes with the crook of her elbow and turned away from him.

* * *

Their energy anatomy exam was two days away. It was part of a gruesome round of exams that Aang hadn't expected on his arrival here. As a junior transfer, he felt he was constantly behind. Even in those rare moments were he excelled, he knew he was never ahead – only on par with the rest of the class. He sat in the library and scanned the pages of his textbook restlessly. The girl who sat across from him an hour ago was trying desperately to get his attention. Though he had spent his youth away from the opposite sex, Aang could tell this girl was trying. And trying hard, too. After offering him a stick of gum, 'accidentally' kicking him in the shin while swinging her legs beneath the table, and commenting on his unique tattoos, Aang could tell she was running out of ideas.

At last, as expected, she threw a small, folded piece of paper at him. Aang looked up with a question mark on his face.

"It's for you," she whispered, and a boy sitting next to her coughed, "Ah-hem!"

Aang opened the note.

_i'm just gonna come out & say it. i think ur cute & this is my number… ;) txt me urs? – luv meng_

He folded the note back up and smiled nervously. She was beaming at him. Unsure what to do, he gave her a thumbs up but shrugged. "I don't have a phone," he lied quietly. "Um. I'll see you around. I have to go." Predictably, as he stood up to go, his pocket started ringing and buzzing. He didn't answer the call under Meng's glaring. But once he ducked out of the library, he called Guru Pathik back on the spot.

"I'm good," Aang promised when the man asked again and again. He threw his backpack on the short grass. Fall was fast approaching at Four Nations, and a few trees in the distance stood red and orange against one another, their thick leaves dappled with color. "It's really gorgeous here," he told his adoptive father. "I wish you could come see it."

"Ah, I remember the Earth Kingdom well," Pathik said in reverie. "The beginning of each season is so well-defined. In the temples, it's easy to forget, something secondary. The weather merely fills the space between meditation, and there isn't enough plant life for us to keep track. Most trees are pines, and pines stay green for most of the year." He hesitated before asking, "The culture. It suits you?"

"I'm still trying, Guru Pathik. But to be honest, I miss home." Just as Aang finished this thought, a blip in the distance caught his eye. Katara was sitting in the grass with a book in hand. Her gray hoodie and loose brown hair told him she wasn't expecting company – she seemed to be the type to dress up for meetings – and the image of Katara alone made his heart leap. He had forgotten to exchange numbers at their last encounter and this new find filled him with inexplicable joy. He almost didn't want to disturb her there. "But I love her," said Aaing. "I mean, here! I love it here."

"This is safer for you," he said. "The virus that took your father from you was spreading fast. And the Fire Nation didn't exactly give us a choice… Have you told anyone that you are the Avatar?"

He found he couldn't take his eyes off Katara. Two pigeons joined her on her blanket, and she threw them pieces of her coffee cake. "Not a soul."

"That is good news. The less people that know, the better. The politics are murky now. We can't afford to get word out. I'm expecting you back for your winter vacation. Aang?"

"I have to go." The airbender dropped his phone back in his baggy pockets and made a course for Katara before stopping midway. He went back and picked up his backpack. What to say to her? Why did she make him this nervous? It couldn't just be her sex – that girl who had thrown him the note didn't make him nervous at all. Certainly, she did make his stomach turn, but in a different way…

He stood up and walked towards her again. "What if she doesn't want company?" he asked himself aloud. "Ugh, this is so confusing. I'll just go up to her and say hi… hi, Katara. Yeah. I mean, what's the worse she can say? Hi, Katara. Hi, Katara…"

In his muttering, he didn't notice that he had fallen within earshot. Katara looked up and grinned. "Hi," she laughed, and stood up to hug him. She said, "You were mumbling," just as she parted from his neck, and Aang felt his skin stand on end, the warmth of her breath lingering and sweet.

"I didn't want to bug you," he stammered. "But… but I saw you here and thought, I don't know, I'd come say hi."

"You're welcome to bug me any time." She sat down and tore off a piece of coffee cake. "Try this. Suki made it last night. She used brown sugar instead of regular sugar."

"She cooks for you. That's really sweet," he said, and took a bite.

"She takes good care of me."

"It's good to have friends that close. I miss the friends I used to have before I came here."

"You never told me where you were before," Katara realized suddenly. "Where did you transfer from?"

Before he had the chance the answer, one of the greedier pigeons picked up Katara's bag in search of more cake. The contents of the bag spilled on the grass, and Katara cried out and shooed the bird away. "Little pig!" she called out, and threw the remaining chunk of cake square into the bird's face. It dropped her khaki bag and chased after the pastry.

"Nice shot!" Aang said through tears. He couldn't help it – angry Katara was hilarious. He stood up and helped her put her bag back together. She seemed more flustered than she should have been, looking around at the mess in a violent hurry, and Aang dismissed it until he saw, from the corner of his eye, a small box that read "Pregnancy Test." Katara grabbed this item first and threw it in her backpack without saying anything.

Aang fished between the blades of grass for pens, pencils, hair clips, and a plastic box of floss. He handed these to Katara, feeling he wasn't welcome to hold the bag. Suddenly she felt distant and uncomfortable to him, and he hated that he had spotted that pink box. He didn't know what to ask in order to break this new ice – "Hey, I saw that preggo test in your bag. You expectin'? Who's the daddy?" He felt his face warm at his own surprise and averted his gaze from hers. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably bothered. Almost angry. Years with the monks had prepared him to deal with those unexpected torrents of petty rage – but he didn't know why he felt this way and it upset him further.

"Thanks," she said when the final ink pen made its way into her palm. "That bird… crazy how big the animals get around this campus."

"It's because undiscovered philanthropists like you keep feeding them," he said, trying to control his tone, and he smiled when she grinned at him. It was a little sickly – one edge of her mouth didn't lift all the way, and Aang detected some paleness beneath her eyes, as though she'd seen a ghost but held in the horror. "Listen," he started, and though her eyes widened, he kept speaking. "I don't want to overstep my boundaries –"

"Then don't," she interrupted clearly. "Please." Her eyes narrowed to blue slits and the muscles of her cheek tightened. This reaction surprised him. He had expected her to be more open about discussing her private life with him, possibly because he already felt so close to her, but he realized that they were still fairly new acquaintances and a night at her place didn't mean they were best buddies. He shifted on his toes uncomfortably, and took a hint.

"Okay."

"I'm actually going to head home," she stated flatly. She began rolling her blanket.

Frantically, Aang said, "Don't!" and when she looked up, he noticed there were tears in her eyes. "Don't go now," he pleaded lightheartedly. "C'mon, it's only like… what, six? Let's go to dinner. Let's do something. I don't know. Anything you want."

"I'm not feeling it," she answered. "I'm sorry. I should go get some rest." He was afraid to argue with her or press her to join him – all he wanted was that even-toothed smile that had captured him on his first day. Theconfusing anger bubbled up in him again, pulled his throat closed. He watched her back disappear over the dipping hills leading to the upperclassmen dorms. In a huff, and in spite of everything he had learned about preserving the planet in his youth, he blasted the fat pigeon with a gust of whirling wind that left it nearly featherless and shivering.


End file.
